Zhao was truly unfortunate now. Two Poccog demons suddenly attacked him, exhausted from training. Unable to match their power—especially since their strength had awakened—Zhao quickly fell into a dire state.
A demon's bite weakened him as he lay motionless on the ground. The venom spread rapidly through his body, causing his skin to take on a purplish hue. His fever spiked dangerously high, and his breathing grew shallow. Every passing second brought more pain, his strength fading with no sign of recovery.
His body trembled uncontrollably as the poison took hold, attacking his nerves and blood. Sweat poured from his forehead, soaking his clothes, while his vision blurred. He clung to the edge of consciousness, barely aware of his surroundings, trapped in a silent struggle against the creeping darkness of death.
Tora realized her mistake but knew that saving Zhao could only come after defeating Bass and Dass. That was no straightforward task—the two possessed regenerative powers. Regardless of the repeated strikes, their bodies continued to heal.
"There has to be a weakness... they can't be immortal," Tora muttered.
Bass and Dass prepared to strike again. They leapt and flanked Tora, trapping him from both sides.
Then the twin demons crossed their arms over their chests. The ground trembled beneath them as they summoned an invisible shield. With all their might, Bass and Dass charged at Tora, aiming to crush him with their shield force.
Tora, unaware of this power, didn't evade. Instead, he braced himself to counterattack. But as the twins neared—just three meters away—Tora cried out in pain. The invisible force slammed into him, pinning him down.
"What... is this?" Tora groaned. His body was immobilized, crushed between the twins' combined force.
"Die!" Bass snarled as he and Dass closed in further, tightening the pressure.
"Don't underestimate me!" Tora roared, furious.
With all his strength, he pushed against the crushing force. Slowly but surely, he forced Bass and Dass backward.
"This monkey monster is insanely strong," muttered Dass.
Tora screamed, letting out a primal roar of fury. With a sudden burst of strength, he flung both enemies away. The shield vanished, and Tora was free.
Still trembling from the intense pressure, Tora's eyes now glowed brighter than before. His fury and concern for Zhao triggered a surge of inner power. The golden flame aura, once faint, now blazed vividly around his body.
"Tora! Use your club's shockwave. Destroy their bodies in one blow," whispered the voice of Amonan, the demon residing within Tora.
Tora understood immediately. He spun his club, creating a fierce vortex of wind—ready to unleash a devastating power.
Bass and Dass were taken by surprise. They hadn't expected such strength. Still, they didn't back down. As Poccog demons, they were used to fighting without fear of injury, their bodies healing in seconds.
"He's unlocking his true strength," said Dass, baring his fangs with a grin.
"Good. Now we can fight for real," Bass responded.
In a flash, Tora darted forward like lightning, suddenly standing before the two demons. He swung his club at them with astonishing speed.
Bass and Dass tried to summon their invisible shields—but too late. Before the shields formed, Tora's club struck the air in front of them, releasing a powerful shockwave.
The earth shook violently. The ground cracked, roots burst upward, and a fierce wind howled through the air.
The shockwave tore their bodies apart. For once, their regeneration failed—Bass and Dass were truly dead.
Tora, exhausted, reverted to his human form. He immediately rose, searching for Zhao, who the blast had flung far away.
Staggering through dust and rubble, Tora scanned the area. "Zhao!" he shouted in panic.
Amid fallen trees and shattered earth, Zhao lay motionless. His body trembled, breath ragged. The purplish hue had spread to his face. Tora knelt, shaking him. "Zhao! Hang on, you hear me? Don't die!"
Tora clenched his teeth. Time was against them. Poccog demon bites weren't ordinary—they injected mystical venom that spread through the soul, not just the blood. Human regeneration alone couldn't stop it.
But the fierce battle had drawn Yamile and Uncle Marco to the scene. They rushed toward the chaos.
"That's from Zhao's training area," Marco noted.
Yamile and Marco arrived moments later, stunned by the devastation. Smoke still rose from the shockwave's impact, and the land looked ravaged by an earthquake.
But their eyes immediately locked onto two things: Tora kneeling and Zhao's nearly lifeless body—blue and purple from poison.
"Zhao!" Yamile screamed, running forward.
Tora turned. "Yamile! Please… he was poisoned by a Poccog demon. I don't know what to do…"
Yamile didn't respond. She pressed her hand to Zhao's chest. A greenish aura glowed from her palm. But as the energy touched Zhao's body, she winced. "This venom… it's not normal. It's attacking his soul."
Marco nodded grimly. "That's what makes Poccog so feared. Their venom doesn't just kill the body—it destroys consciousness. Zhao could die… or worse, lose his soul forever."
Yamile closed her eyes, calming herself. Yamile's hand remained pressed to Zhao's chest as she sensed the poison.
"Tora, help me sit Zhao upright," Yamile instructed.
Tora complied immediately.
"I'm going to force this venom out. Let's hope it works," she whispered.
She placed two fingers on Zhao's neck, right over the bite. Her fingers glowed green. Moments later, a thick purple liquid seeped from the wound.
Yamile continued to draw the poison from his body.
"This is the venom!" Marco exclaimed, amazed by Yamile's power.
"In essence, it's liquid—so I can manipulate it," Yamile explained.
Yamile eventually removed all the venom. Zhao's skin returned to its normal color.
The venom, now hovering at Yamile's fingertip, formed a dark purple orb.
She flicked it away—it landed on a tree, which withered instantly.
"He's finally safe," Yamile sighed in relief, grateful her brother had survived.
"I didn't expect the enemy to reach this far," Marco muttered.
"This area is no longer safe."
"Exactly why you, Zhao, and Yamile should retreat to the hideout. I'll head to the city and scout them out—I have a terrible feeling," said Zhao, now standing, preparing to leave.
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